Phone Booth

I guess this just might qualify as sci-fi as well, but it was a dream I had, and I definitely consider those fantasy...so there you go.

Submitted: October 31, 2008

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Submitted: October 31, 2008

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I hadn’t mean to go down any corridors, a least not to my knowledge, but I needed to get away and quickly. Why I had a gun, a fully loaded semi-automatic seemed also to ooze from my mind’s grasp
like the red patterned on my shirt: sticky brown syrup dampening my skin, chilling it in the refrigerated air.

Could I possibly kill any more? Enough of them had fallen under my hand just a half hour before. Would my mental state dip down into the bowels of insanity if another were to be dead at my feet,
skull laying splayed open on the floor, life depleted in a puddle, coating the grey marble tiles?

Overhead the lights seemed mere highlights on the textured darkness, welcoming the sounds from whomever, whatever lay beyond the
wall. Two taps, an empty thump to greet my numb fingers, muted murmurs ceasing, my idiocy evident to others as it seeped into my dull conscious thoughts. The panic did not settle in until sharpened
pearls severed the seams of my pants, yet the fact I knew which way to turn when I reached the T came without hesitation as adrenaline overrode rational thought, yet rational thought fired
and killed so many creatures as they bounded after their prey.

When I’d arrived at the entrance hall, I turned from the door, waving grimly at freedom to spy the phone booth across the room.
How long would it take for me to get there? I forced myself stay where I was, fighting instinct while obeying all the while. I wanted to have the chance to see what it was that took over my pursuit
as I realized the clicking of the claws faded away, the snarling, much more slowly, receding.

It made its appearance, looking me in the eye, supremacy in its step, confidence in my imminent demise. While I recognized the
sound of my hopes evaporating into the air, my legs had taken me in the opposite direction, the phone booth growing farther and farther away. My stride extended to wider and longer lengths than
ever before as my hooves came down hard against the newly laid pavement. My last possibility dug into my energy reserves allowing my hind legs to propel me into the booth, my hooves frantically
smashing against the glass as the vortex behind me fought against the creature’s constricting grip.

The gun in my hands fired, white hot light reflecting from the creatures eyes. I have won. The vortex closed. My life returns to
me, taking its time to round the corner, as do their nostrils, sniffing out my existence. A laugh, I do not realize has come from within myself, escaped, containing no edge of sanity, and my weapon
dropped to the now wood floors. A shot, and my room is dark.